The Trials and Tribulations of the Childhood Mind
by Dragonrider4000
Summary: Matt & Mello are both well known for their friendship, but how did it develop? This story delves into Matt and Mello's fractured past, where they came from, how they met & how their friendship developed. Will Wammy's cope when these two meet?
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my Matt and Mello story, it has been building in my head for several weeks now, so I felt I had to begin. I know that writing three stories at once could be suicide, but hey. I have never been known for my sense. Beta'd by Virtualdraconium who decided to comment.

B/N: Troubling on me too… I have work to do, and my own stories to write, and homework to help my brother with, still. I should really do that tomorrow…

A/N;I thinks she feels I have been bugging her with all the chapters I have been sending her recently. I do believe though, that my fan fictions are all her fault, and she did agree to beta them…

Anyway, that's enough talk from me and my beta. Please read and review!

* * *

Chapter One

"Out."

The command echoed into the joyless room, and out from under the bed emerged a small red haired boy, his face sporting several black and heavy bruises. He stood close to the wall his shoulders hunched. He looked warily through his fringe at the man in the doorway. The man grabbed him and dragged him through the house into a brightly lit, but tatty kitchen.

He gasped in pain as he was dumped into a chair, his lower body finally waking enough to give him the daily inventory of pain. It was always this way though; he didn't understand why it happened, just that it did. Wordlessly he began to eat his cereal, he didn't register the taste he was too drawn into himself to care. He bolted down the water, knowing it would be the last he would have till the evening. Then he was shoved back into his room and the door locked. There was the sound of another door slamming and all was still.

The silence overwhelmed him again and he crawled under the bed, ignoring the pain that came from his body. The silence was always far worse than the events he had come to fear; the silence left him with nothing but the memories of the events to eat away at his soul and mind.

One hand moved forward to scratch at the wooden planks of the floor, his unkempt nails running across the grain, his eyes following their path, even though his gaze was unseeing. He felt dead inside.

…

He started from his daze as the room darkened around him, the night was drawing in. He whimpered slightly, the coming of night always meant _he_ would be returning home. He only hoped he brought company with him. He was never hurt, never _abused_ when another person was in the house. He picked aimlessly at the blood flecks that still adorned his skin; he wanted so much to be clean.

He moved slowly out from his place under the bed, feeling several joints crack and the knife wounds on the back reopen. He had forgotten just what precisely he had done to deserve them. Not that it seemed to matter to his _father_. The small boy laughed then, as far as he was concerned his father had died the same day as his mother, he only wished he could have followed suit.

With deliberate movements he made his way to the chair the other end of the Spartan room, the chill in the room had forced him to move for a jumper. He refused to use the sheets, on the bed. He looked at the clock on the wall, the only item that adorned the walls, and saw the time was already nine o' clock. He shrugged slightly and winced at the movement, before returning to his place of shelter. A small while later he was asleep.

…

The morning rays of sunshine woke him and he stared at the lit room in surprise, for the first time in years he had been left alone at night, been left in peace. His body screamed at him for his prolonged stay under the bed and begged his mind for water. Dragging himself forward he managed to get to the door. He hesitated then, he needed water, and he needed the facilities in the bathroom desperately, but he also knew he didn't need a beating or what could follow after, for leaving the room. Besides it was locked. He glanced at the clock, ten in the morning. His father was never home then, he decided to risk it.

He examined the door, the lock was a simple design requiring a key, it had the potential to be opened from both sides, and the key was still in the lock. Hmm, the bottom of the door left a good two inch gap between it and the door.

Perfect.

He went to his wardrobe and pulled down a shirt. Then, very carefully, he pushed the shirt under the door covering as much of the other side of the door as possible. The only problem he had now was getting the key out of the door.

He looked around the room, there was nothing small enough or pointy enough to push the key out of the lock. He sighed, _to get so close, and yet fail_. His need for water and his despair had him suddenly slam his hands against the door again and again, small sobs coming from his chapped mouth. One minute passed, then another; finally there was a small clink. He collapsed down the door, gasping in relief, resting his head on the cool surface of the door. With shaking hands he pulled the shirt back under the door and held the key to himself.

A few minutes later he rose and opened the door. He edged out into the hallway and paused listening for any sound that the man was in the house. He knew it was irrational for him to listen now, but he was beyond the door. This was dangerous territory.

He fled along the passage to the kitchen and used his hands to drink water straight from the tap, the water cascading down his face and neck. His eyes closed in pleasure, as he forced down yet more sobs, he would not cry. With each passing moment yet more of his shield was cracking, but he refused to give in.

What else had he wanted? He couldn't remember, this water was too good. _To be clean_, of course. He turned to leave the kitchen. His eyes alighted on the fridge and his stomach growled. He wrenched open the door and ate the first thing to come to hand, cold pizza. He gorged on the remains of the pizza, it was cold and greasy, but to him it was the most divine thing he had tasted.

Then, with his chin covered in tomato paste from the pizza, he went in search of the bathroom. He stripped and with a great sigh entered the shower. He scrubbed every inch of skin, biting through the pain ignoring the scars that removal of the shirt had revealed. Not one area of his body had been spared the knife.

Patterns criss-crossed his upper arms and a few trailed down to just above his wrists. While his ankles were encircled by small criss-crossing scars, it had caused the man great delight to cause those to him that night. He gulped, he refused to remember. He let the water cascade down his back the joy of being clean overriding the pain from the cuts, the water turned a dusty pink, before turning back to crystal clear. He continued to wash even as the water turned biting cold.

Finally, after almost more than an hour and a half, he felt clean as he stood under the water, his pale form shivering. When his teeth began to chatter he left the bathroom, drying himself off as he went. He dragged on some clothing, the material clinging to his still damp form.

Aimlessly he moved about the house, his brain still sluggish and dazed. He checked each door and window but, unlike the bedroom door, these held no chance of escape.

He had been withdrawn into himself for so long each thought came into his head with the speed of an advancing ice age. Then his eyes beheld the phone. His brain went into overdrive. One thought echoing in his mind.

_There is a world outside. There is a world outside. There is a world outside. There is a world outside._

He wrenched the receiver up and dialled the emergency services. An age, an _eon _passed, before the line connected.

"Hello, how can I direct your call?" A female operative came on the line.

"Help me," he said, his voice coming out as a sob.

"Oh my," she gasped, as the child wailed down the line, "I will direct you to the police they can help you. Please hold on, whatever it is we can help."

The line garbled for a moment and another voice came on the line.

"Hello police. Please state the nature of the crime and your location."

"Help me," he repeated, his voice constricting his throat, the sound coming out as a tear filled scratchy croak.

"Trace this call!" Another voice on the end of the line shouted suddenly. He flinched, at the sound.

"Help me." He said again, sobs wracking his body. He repeated his mantra over and over, his voice cracking as he fell to his knees.

"Yes, we will," the new voice said, "we are on our way, please stay on the line. We are coming for you."

He tried to stop, to say something else, but he couldn't. It was as though his very soul was crying out for all the pain he had suffered.

In the distance he heard sirens coming steadily closer, then a steady banging on the heavily reinforced front door. A loud crash, the sound of many footsteps, then strong, but gentle arms were lifting him up and out of the house with so many nightmares. He looked back at the house over his saviours shoulders before passing out in relief, letting the dark safety of his mind consume him.

* * *

"…. And on top of those scars, there were signs that this child has been abused in other ways as well by his captor."

"My God."

"It gets worse," said the first voice, "the registered owner of the house was his father."

"The poor boy, has he woken up yet?"

"No he has been sleeping since he arrived here. No doubt with all the trauma he could never truly rest before. Has anyone found his father?"

He flinched at that; they weren't possibly going to send him back were they?

"Yes," the second voice replied, "he was one of those shot in the raid organised against one of the major criminal groups operating in the country. He died instantly mores the pity, I would loved to have roughed him up some for this."

"As a cop you know you shouldn't say things like that," the first voice chided, "particularly with L working so closely on this case. You don't want his representative to hear you say that, it could affect your career."

The second voice said nothing.

"Come on we should leave, we could wake him up," the first voice said suddenly. There was the sound of footsteps, a door opened and closed then all was peaceful. The silence descended on him like a lead weight.

He opened his eyes and viewed the surroundings. He was in a white room; everything was white, from the sheets to the walls to the surfaces. It was all _so_ clean. He had never seen a room like it. The bed was in the middle of the room too. He frowned; it would have to do.

He slid off the bed and crawled underneath, taking note of the bandages that adorned his person. They were quite strange to him. He immediately felt safer, able to see the door from here, but not be seen. He felt himself settling into his non-thinking daze.

He was thrown out of this gradual progression as the door quietly opened and a pair of jean clad legs finished by two bare feet entered the room. He shrank back slightly as the legs approach. Then they folded bringing the owner of them into view. He had messy black hair and his thumb was positioned on his bottom lip. The boy stared at him, he was so unusual for a moment the boy forgot his fright.

"Hello Mail."

He shrank back further at the sound of the man's voice, his reaction automatic to someone talking to him.

"I promise I won't hurt you. Can I join you down there and talk with you for a while?"

Mail considered this for awhile. Then decided he was going to trust this man. He nodded. The man folded onto his side and moved only slightly under the bed.

"Why are you hiding down here?"

"The silence."

"The silence? Well I shall endeavour to keep talking and keep the silence away." This worked entirely to plan as Mail smiled.

"What's your name?" Mail asked, he didn't bother to ask how the man knew his name.

"L," the man said smiling.

"You are the one who got my father shot," Mail stated. This made L blink.

"How do you know that?"

"There were two people talking about it in here. Kinda stupid of them really," Mail said, he paused for a slight second as his eyes dimmed slightly, "Thank you."

Then quite suddenly Mail began to cry, he finally realised he was free. He felt arms pull him forward and lift him up, holding him so carefully that he didn't feel scared.

…

L held the small boy, he would not usually have actually come and interacted with someone like this, it was dangerous, but the boy he was holding had sounded so traumatised and alone when his voice had come over his speakers… He had to come and see this boy was safe personally. He sighed, and tentatively raised one hand to pat the crying Mail on the head.

He started as the boy moved closer one hand clinging to his shirt, his small face burying into the soft material. Slowly he pulled him closer.

"You were the voice on the phone at the end, weren't you?" Mail murmured, as his tears subsided.

"Yes, I was," L said, further astounded by the insights this boy was capable of even in his current state. This settled it; there was only one place L would be satisfied this boy could go to. He would go to Wammy's, L could keep an eye on him there. Oh, and he had to have Wammy help him design a new voice synthesiser if he could be identified so easily.

"Thank you for saving me," Mail said smiling up at L. L smiled sadly back, he didn't know what he could say in response. Then he felt something digging uncomfortably into his side.

He shifted slightly and pulled the gameboy out of his pocket. He was never quite sure how he managed to fit it in there. Mail's eyes focused on it.

"What's that?" he said, sniffing slightly.

"This is a gameboy," L said smiling, "would you like to help me with a level I am having some difficulty with?"

Mail nodded.

A half hour later, when a tall man in a long black trench-coat came in search of L, he found a small boy sat, very happily playing on a gameboy, in L's arms.

"I need to leave now," L said quietly to the boy in his arms when he saw the man enter.

"Oh," Mail whined.

"I will be back for you, don't worry," L said hurriedly, patting the boy on the head. As he stood the boy held out the gameboy to him.

"No, you keep it. You are much better at the games than I am anyway," L said smiling. Mail beamed and held the gameboy close.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer; Death Note isn't mine.

A/N; Here is the second chapter of my Matt and Mello story. Which includes Mello this time in honour of his birthday which is today!

Happy Birthday Mello!! I hope you were given many bars of chocolate!

Beta'd most wonderfully by Virtualdraconium.

* * *

Chapter two

"I am surprised at you," Wammy said, smiling as they drove away from the hospital. He had rarely seen L act so affectionate, but then it would have taken a much colder soul to not be affected by that plaintive voice which had resounded through the police station. If it hadn't been for the electrical fault that had put the child on speaker, L would never have heard the boy and ordered the police into action.

"Whatever do you mean Quillish?" L replied, "It would be inhuman of me not to be worried for him after hearing him cry out like that. He is smart too; somehow he managed to pick out my voice through the electronic synthesiser in his memory and align it with my actual voice."

"I wouldn't have thought that possible," Wammy stated, he was quite surprised.

"He seems quite adept with technology; well he was a natural with the Gameboy at any rate," L paused then, he seemed embarrassed, "…he has already surpassed my highest score."

Wammy laughed slightly at that, even when L glared at him and attempted to look forlorn.

"That look hasn't worked on me since you were nine," Wammy stated, changing gear, "what do you think would be the best thing to do for him?"

"He should go to The Orphanage of course," L replied, "he is bright enough to do very well there, and that way I can keep an eye on him in the future."

Wammy nodded, this was, of course, the best plan.

"He is only six Quillish," L said, his voice thick with emotion, "his father did _that_ to him and he was _only six_. And there are signs it wasn't just a recent occurrence; that is has been going on for some time."

Silence descended for a few minutes, after that, there was little Wammy could say that wouldn't seem frivolous and disrespectful.

"What cases do you have available for me?" L asked, wanting to move off topic. He didn't want to admit how much Mail's plight had affected him.

"I am afraid that in the past couple of days the world has been either very law-abiding, or has decided only stupid criminals should commit crimes," Wammy said.

"You mean I don't have any cases at present?" L said, shocked.

"Not unless you count your hobby of tracking down Eraldo Coil."

"Don't sound so annoyed about that," L sighed, "he did set down the challenge, and I know he stole that jewel theft case from me last month."

"I think you like the competition," Wammy stated.

"I don't think its competition."

"Oh?"

"No," L said, leaning his head against the window to watch the traffic pass by in the rain, "I think he wants me to find him so he can retire."

…

Mail stared at the nurse. The nurse stared back, her glasses falling slightly down her nose, she was the second voice from a week ago.

They were arguing about the gameboy; he wanted to take it with him, but the nurse wanted him to leave it. Apparently social services wanted to talk to him, _again_. He was fed up with people asking him questions; if it wasn't social services it was the police, and if it wasn't them it was the hospital staff.

"Either we both go, or we both stay." He hugged the toy to his chest to emphasise the point. He was growing to love the thing; of course his new friend L had sent him several new games the next day along with the power cable. As far as Matt was concerned he had somehow arrived in heaven. The noise from the games always kept the silence, and the associated thoughts, away.

"Fine," the nurse said smiling, "can you just please refrain from playing on it while they are talking to you; they find it rather off-putting."

"Okay."

He followed the nurse along the corridor to the main room of the ward, it was currently empty, something which surprised Mail. It was usually full of worried mothers and their children. Then the doors opened and two people walked in. He smiled happily; his friend had come back! He went to run over his mouth opening to speak a greeting, when L raised a finger to his lips and smiled. Mail nodded in understanding.

The nurse was pleasantly oblivious to this exchange the other visitor having immediately pulled her into a conversation. Then the nurse looked over a form, smiled in understanding, came over and stroked Mail's hair fondly, smiling at him, before leaving the room.

"L!" Mail said as soon as she had left, bounding forwards.

"Hello Mail," L replied, crouching down so he was level with Mail, "how would you like to come and live with some of my friends? There are some your age, and all just as clever, and I will come to visit you whenever you want."

"Will there be more games there?" Mail asked.

"Yes Mail, there will be more games" L said laughing.

"Okay then," Mail decided, then smiled as L patted his head.

"Go and gather your stuff then, whilst we finish up here," L said, straightening up as the main doctor walked in, the nurse trailing behind.

Mail bounded back to his room and carefully packed the games there and his new clothes into the bag they had came in. After only five minutes he was done and he made his way back, his face set in a smile.

L grinned at him as he wandered back in; breaking away from a conversation with the doctor to come over to Mail.

"So you have everything?"

"Yes."

"Let's go then," L said smiling down at him and offered Mail his hand. Mail took it and L led him from the building to the waiting car.

…

That had been three months ago.

This is now.

…

Overall Mail had decided he liked it here at Wammy's House. L had explained to him on the journey here all about the special orphanage, and the things Mail could do there. He had to attend lessons here, but that was alright because the subjects taught seemed very simple and he understood the aim of each lesson almost immediately. So he spent most of his time in them daydreaming. He also felt no need to complete the homework for this reason.

L had made him pick a sort of 'new name', as it seemed everyone here used an alias as part of their preparations for either helping L, or moving into the real world. Mail hadn't minded; it just gave him another way to separate his time in the House with his past before the House. He'd chosen the name Matt, for no other reason than the fact he liked the sound of it. Not the most sensible of reasons he knew, but L had informed him quite regally that one needn't be sensible all the time.

There was one thing about Wammy's though that did bug him. The leader board. Everyone was ranked based on their attendance, grades, class work and extra curricular activities. Matt, due to his lack of desire to actually take part in this competition had found himself at the bottom. This seemed to be quite a bad thing in the eyes of most people here. In short, it meant he was being bullied by those in the bottom half, despite actually doing all the work.

They hadn't hit him yet, so Matt didn't care, but it was the fact they kept interrupting his gaming time that annoyed him the most, that, and the fact that they shouted. The shouting brought back the bad memories. This was why he was currently outside, sitting under a tree, dusty red, slowly browning, leaves surrounding him. The gameboy, as usual, was in his hands, on and emitting its varied game noises. Matt didn't think he could ever get bored with all the other worlds gaming gave him access to, it was brilliant.

Then, the gameboy was suddenly clattering to the ground as his main antagonist found him and slapped the device from Matt's hands. Matt looked at it despondently, he knew it would be scratched now.

_Ahh, they've started shouting at me again_, he thought as he stood to retrieve the gameboy. He always ignored them, they didn't bother him; nothing they could do to him would match what had already been done to him so far in his short life. Then a fist came out of nowhere, connecting with his face; the blow knocking him to the ground. Instinctively he went limp, retreating into himself.

…

The blond boy _stomped_ round the building; there was no other word for it. He was annoyed; he was almost always annoyed to some extent. _This_ time he was annoyed at the Maths teacher, apparently pointing out mistakes he had made during the lesson, in a fairly loud voice was not acceptable behaviour. He clenched his hands into fists. Since when did being _right_ warrant a detention?

He stopped as he saw the group in the distance, a small group surrounding a boy on the floor. He growled, he knew everyone's back story. He wasn't the number one here for nothing. The boy on the floor didn't deserve this, and the scene forced him to recall one of his darkest memories. He sprinted forward and did the first thing that came to his mind. He leapt forward his right leg before him and flying kicked the lead bully on the side of the head. He followed his foot down, his entire body weight settling onto the ten year olds face.

He stared across at the three others who were still standing beside the cowering form on the floor. They backed away, seeing Mello's eyes gleaming with malevolent hatred. He decided they were not moving fast enough. He stepped over the boy on the floor letting his fist to rise and connect resoundingly with the middle boy's stomach. The groan was music to Mello's ears.

"Get out of here," Mello hissed, "and if you mess with him again, you mess with me. I won't hesitate to put you in the hospital for a month."

He stood over Matt as the boys ran back into Wammy's, his breath coming in harsh bursts. Then he looked down at Matt. The boy looked as though he had completely retreated into his mind again. Mello knew the boy was still going to counselling sessions. _Not talking_ in them, but still.

He crouched down next to him and took Matt's hand, as he called out to him. Then Mello gasped as the sleeve fell down revealing the scars on the arm he held. Mello resolved to be this boy's friend, and what Mello wanted, Mello _always_ got. Besides, he had more in common with the boy than anyone else at Wammy's.

"Matt?" he called again, his other hand shaking Matt slightly. Matt didn't respond.

"Mail?" Mello asked quietly, "Mail you're safe now."

"Prove it," Matt said quietly, "everyone keeps telling me that; but it never seems to be true."

"It is true," Mello said softly, slightly surprised at himself, but then, they did have a lot in common, "and if it isn't true I will _make _it true."

Matt stared at him in shock, then his hand twisted in Mello's grip so he could hold Mello's in return.

"I believe you," Matt whispered.

"Good," Mello said smirking, "now come on, if you stay out here you'll freeze."

Mello pulled Matt unresistingly to his feet; he could tell from the way he was moving that Matt wasn't seriously hurt. He attempted to pull him back towards the house, and much to his surprise was met with resistance.

"Not without my gameboy," Matt said, wrenching his hand out of Mello's to go over and pick the toy off the floor.

"Tch," Mello sighed, but waited for Matt.

In silence they trudged back towards the house, Matt clinging onto the gameboy.

Mello said nothing as the younger boy's hand suddenly touched his again before pulling away again. He reached after it and held it firmly, noting that Matt seemed to hide behind him slightly as they moved through the corridors. Mello moved automatically in the direction of the dorms, if Matt didn't say he wanted to visit the nurse, Mello wasn't going to take him there.

"Do you want to come play some games in my room?" Matt asked quietly, sounding somewhat uncertain of himself.

"Be prepared for a resounding loss," Mello said grinning down at him, "I've beaten everyone here, at anything I've tried."

…


	3. Chapter 3

A/N; I have finally updated! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and forgive me for any mistakes as it has not been beta'd by the wonderful VirtualDraconium, she has exams and I don't want to be a bother.

Please read and review!

* * *

Chapter three

Mello sat next to Matt quite astounded. For the first time since he had arrived at Wammy's Mello had lost to someone. Also for the first time in his short life he found he didn't care.

"What were you saying about winning?" Matt said grinning at him.

"Tch," Mello said simply, "It seems you do have brains in that skull of yours after all."

He then dragged Matt towards him and knuckled the top of his head slightly, enough to shock the other boy, but not enough to hurt. Matt just laughed at his actions.

"So, now that we have determined, that yes indeed Matt does have a brain," Mello said, "Why do you lounge at the bottom of the leader board?"

"I find the work bores me, I prefer gaming," Matt said shrugging, "I don't want to surpass L."

Mello attacked him again.

"They give you more difficult work and change your classes depending on how well you do, moron," Mello yelled.

Matt laughed and ducked away from Mello, the brash actions of Mello somehow did fill him with fear. Perhaps it was the sheer openness of Mello and the lack of any real violence towards him, of course protecting him from the bullies had helped. In his distraction he didn't notice Mello's hand shoot out, and in less than a minute plonk Matt at his desk.

"You now I can't see the screen from here," Matt laughed, going to stand up. Mello's hands pressed lightly on his shoulders.

"If you do the work, you can move up the leader board, and could even be in classes with me. It is based on ability not on age," Mello said quietly, "and no-one will are pick on you if you are near the top."

"Why do you think I will be near the top?" Matt asked, suddenly serious in the light of Mello's sudden change in tone.

"Because you were saved by L, just like me," Mello whispered.

Matt stared up at Mello in shock.

"How did you-" Matt began.

"I hacked the main computer," Mello explained, looking embarrassed, "I always do with new arrivals."

"So you saved me because you pity me," Matt said quietly, looking down.

"Did I ever say that?" Mello scoffed. Then, as he knew show and tell should be done in that order, he shrugged down the shirt he was wearing and turned his back to Matt. He pulled it back on as he heard Matt gasp, he knew Matt had definitely seen.

"We have more in common than you might think Matt," Mello sighed, as he turned around, "now do the work, I don't want to have to sit and put up with the maths teacher on my own much longer."

Without saying a word Matt turned to the pages in front of him and began to work through the problems.

…

Mello had been right about Matt. It took two weeks of just handing in the work for Matt to be moved into the same classes as Mello, and only one month of being in the same classes for his name to finish it's ascendance.

Matt stared at the board. _He was second_.

He smiled, he was only behind Mello now, and that was alright. He liked being there; it would keep Mello happy and keep everyone else off his back, the perfect place to be. Then Mello jumped him, staring over his shoulder at the board. Mello gave a gleeful laugh in Matt's ear.

"See I told you, you could do it," Mello stated.

"Yeah? Well don't get too full of yourself Mello," Matt scoffed, bringing his elbow back into Mello's gut slightly. He had found that this was the only way to remove the barnacle known as Mello; he would actually stay draped around Matt's shoulders as they walked. Much to all the other kids surprise Mello only laughed as Matt did this and pulled away. Matt neglected to mention that he spent only half the time on the work that Mello did… and then wasn't concentrating fully.

The one underlying thought Matt had though, was that he missed L. He had only had L's company for a week, since then L had not returned to Wammy's. He and Mello had hacked into the network together to find out just why their hero had not returned home; he was busy on a case. A serial rapist stalking through America, so he could not return to England. Matt and Mello understood, but they didn't have to like it, despite the seriousness of the crime.

In the past month Matt and Mello had developed a deep friendship, their mutual pain and feelings for L creating the first connection, and their mutual interests; namely wasting time and annoying others, the next. Neither of them could care less about the other orphans and students at Wammy's. That made them the perfect pair.

…

Since Mello had come to Matt's aid the first day they had met, Mello had kept on his protective role over him. Twice Matt had been approached by the others and each time, Mello came out of nowhere and placed them in the infirmary, the last incident being only a few days ago. Some people were slow at catching on, no matter how intelligent they were. Roger had been furious with them both for not coming to him about the bullying, but neither of them placed much trust in adults, why should they start now?

…

They ran along the corridor up to their now joint room. They had finally been put together after both had been caught sneaking around at night by most of the staff, and no amount of threats would stop them.

Matt and Mello very rarely played games together now, Mello much more preferred to watch Matt play, it could never fail to be interesting. Matt played each game as though he lived it, each move precise, each detail thought out. Mello loved watching Matt play, his friends face would brighten and a smile would actually form, a fixed and permanent grin, until he died of course. Then Mello would have to move back rapidly as Matt's arms rose in defiance at the game, waving about in anger.

So when Roger entered their room, without knocking, he found Mello lounged behind Matt eating more of his interminable supply of chocolate, his face propped by Matt's shoulder as Matt fought a particularly fiendish level boss.

"Mello," Roger said firmly, Mello ignored him, continuing to offer useless advice to his friend.

"Mello," Roger repeated, annoyance at the seven year old flitting over his face. Mello finally looked at him. "I need to talk to you."

Mello shrugged and slid off the bed, padding out of the room in front of Roger.

"I would prefer to talk in the room," Roger said.

"Matt is fighting a level boss, one of the _last_ level bosses in that game," Mello huffed, "if is _your_ funeral if you interrupt him now."

Roger raised his eyebrows at Mello; he had never heard the lad talk in someone's defence. Then he noticed Mello was looking at him expectantly, he gave in.

"A visitor will be coming to Wammy's tonight, he has requested your presence," Roger explained.

"Don't be coy Roger," Mello sighed, "L has finally come to visit hasn't he, and he wants to see me, because I am the first in line."

Roger frowned at Mello, he could never quite cope with this sort of conversation with a seven year old. Quite often he found himself regretting that he had ever taken this job opportunity when Quillish had offered it to him.

"Yes Mello, L is returning home," Roger said.

"And he just wants to see me? No one else?" Mello asked, he was shocked, he had thought that L would want to see Matt.

"I do not know," Roger admitted, "I received a memo from Mr Wammy about his return, and as you are on the top of the leader board it is to be expected that he would wish to see you. The meeting has been set for 8 o'clock tonight, in his room. Don't be late Mello."

"Fine, fine," Mello replied, managing to keep his excitement out of his voice. He slipped back into the room before Roger could say anything else.

Matt was celebrating his victory, albeit only Mello would have noticed, but Matt had leaned back and had that certain smirk on his face. The smirk only appeared when he had done particularly well.

"Congratulations," Mello smirked, "though was your victory ever in doubt?"

Matt laughed, the controller shifting from his lap to the floor as he did so.

"No I don't suppose it was, all pixel demons fall before me!"

Mello laughed, it wasn't often Matt made jokes.

"What did Roger want?" Matt asked suddenly.

"L is coming to Wammy's," Mello stated simply.

Instantly Matt looked at him attentively obviously waiting for more information.

"According to Roger he will be here this evening. Wammy sent word ahead, so Roger has made the assumption that he will want to see me. He has set a meeting for 8 o'clock." Mello sighed and slouched onto the bed.

Matt said nothing, he wondered why L had not asked to see him. Did he not care about him? True they had met by accident and L had ensured he came to Wammy's… he didn't owe Matt anything at all… but still…

"Of course I won't see L without my shadow coming with me," Mello said quietly.

"Your shadow?" Matt said shifting to look up at Mello.

"Yes Matt, namely you," Mello replied, "an apt name I feel considering you always follow me around walking just slightly behind me, like a shadow." Mello smiled then, a genuine smile belying any hard feelings from either of them at this.

"Thank you," Matt murmured, moving to hug Mello.

"Hey, geroff me!" Mello yelled; he didn't _do_ hugging. The arms that briefly encircled Matt back though told a far more different story.

…

Matt hesitatingly followed behind Mello as they made there way up to the room that belonged to the fabled L. He was panicking that there was a reason L didn't want to see him and he would anger him by turning up.

He didn't show it but Mello was just as nervous as Matt, he had not seen L for far longer than Matt. In fact L's rescue of him always seemed like some dream from another lifetime. He knocked on the door, which caused Matt to snort slightly in amusement. Mello glared at him over his shoulder, which just caused Matt to snigger at him.

"You don't scare me," Matt murmured.

The sound of the door opening stopped all conversation. They turned to stare at the big, panda like eyes that stared out at them in amazement

"Mello?" L said, he sounded astonished, then his gaze slipped down, "Matt?"

"We were told to meet you by Roger," Mello said quickly. L frowned, he looked annoyed.

"Does he never stop trying to plan my life without my permission?" L sighed, then at the downcast and wary expressions on Matt and Mello's face his gaze softened, "you can still come in, I am not annoyed at either of you. In fact I had hoped to surprise you both tomorrow, but it seems that my plan has now failed."

He moved back and allowed Matt and Mello into the room. The two young boys ran into the room and ensconced themselves on L's bed.

"Make yourselves at home," L muttered as he saw them, then he said louder, "how have you both been?"He moved to sit in the chair by the bed.

"I have decided the maths teacher hates me," Mello sighed, "and Matt here has become my shadow." He pushed Matt's face into the mattress as he said this and laughed.

"I am NOT you shadow," Matt growled, "someone needs to follow you to make sure you don't break something."

"If you are referring to the tray of pipettes that accidentally _fell_ near me in chemistry last week, then you are severely mistaken. I had nothing to do with it."

"Mello, I saw you push the box off the counter, _at_ the teacher."

"He insulted me."

"Telling you off for adding your solutions together too quickly was not an insult, if the temperature went above ten degrees you could have ended up with TNT!"

"So?," Mello sighed, "I like explosives."

"Mello I-"

They stopped arguing when they heard a small amused chuckle from the other occupant of the room.

"No please continue," L said smiling, "don't let my presence put you off your dispute. I shall merely observe."

Mello and Matt looked down sheepishly, they had just argued in front of L.

"Has the bullying stopped?" L asked suddenly, his gaze on Matt.

Matt nodded slightly, looking down at the mattress.

"Mello saved me," Matt admitted. L's gaze turned to Mello, his face unfathomable.

"If you tell me there names they will be dealt with, this place does not exist to teach people to bully those seemingly weaker than them or different than them," L said quietly, standing and moving over to a table loaded with cakes.

"I believe they have learnt their mistake already," Mello replied.

"Oh?" L asked turning around.

"The four who were a bother are currently in the local hospital," Mello explained.

"I thought we agreed Mello that you would not fall back to your old habits," L chastised slightly.

"I find it difficult to hold back when a friend is in danger," Mello said, he sounded upset, "I am sorry L."

Matt looked at Mello in shock, never had he heard Mello apologise, he didn't seem the type.

"Old habits?" Matt said slowly.

"I see you didn't tell him," L said quietly, the cake behind him forgotten.

Then much to Matt's horror Mello burst into tears.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

A/N; And now, here is Mello's back story. I am surprised at how quickly I managed to write this chapter, but I felt I had to get this down as I had left Mello crying after all.

Not beta'd as I suspect is noticeable in places, but my beta, VirtualDraconium, is revising for exams and I believe the univers would kill me for dumping so many chapters on her as I have written this month.

Please read and review! They motivate me!

* * *

Chapter Four

"_Old habits?" Matt said slowly._

"_I see you didn't tell him," L said quietly, the cake behind him forgotten._

_Then, much to Matt's horror, Mello burst into tears._

L sighed, and put his cake back down on the table, he had not meant to upset Mello, he had only wanted to remind Mello of his promise. He went to comfort Mello and apologise for bringing back bad memories, when suddenly Matt pulled Mello into his arms.

"I'm meant to be the one who cries!" Matt said jokingly, managing to get a small hiccup of laughter out of the usually precocious blonde.

"You don't know what I've done," Mello whispered. Then he started as L's hand landed on his head.

"I was not telling you off Mello, I just didn't want you doing something that you may regret later," L said quietly.

"Yeah," Mello said sarcastically, "I wouldn't want to add to the list."

"Mello, please tell me what is upsetting you so much," Matt whispered quietly, he didn't like seeing his friend so upset. Mello shook his head against Matt's chest.

"You won't like me if I tell you," he whispered.

"Mello I will always like you, you saved me. You know my past anyways, it's only fair," Matt said quietly.

"Won't," Mello responded, being unusually dense, although his tears had slowed and were barely falling now. He didn't like to cry.

"Mello," L said suddenly, taking a seat on the bed next to Matt, drawing his legs up as he did so, "I don't think Matt would ever stop being your friend. Your back stories have made you both who you are now, and he likes the _you _you are now. Friendship is not a thing easily broken, or something you should enter into lightly."

Mello peeked out L, his tears already drying on his cheeks.

"Really?"

L nodded down at the small face looking up at him.

"Okay then," Mello said, his voice weak. Then hesitatingly he began, moving away from the comfort of his friends arms.

…

"_Unlike most of the other children here I am not an orphan. Not technically anyway, my mother is still alive, but she doesn't remember who I am. Even though I did save her life she isn't my mother any more."_

Mello paused for a second and gathered his thoughts.

"_I suppose I should begin by describing my father; he wasn't an unkind man, not from what I can remember of him anyway. He was also a Mafia leader, one of the best and one of the most powerful. He was ruthless, but he was also fair; innocent bystanders were never involved in gang affairs, he didn't think it was right. He was an old man though by mafia standards, already in his sixties and wasn't as fit as he used to be. If he had been he probably wouldn't have been murdered by one of the other gang members that didn't agree with his 'noble' standards. _

_I was only three when he died._

_My mother went into hiding, helped by the few members of the gang who were still loyal to my dead father. The rest of the gang degenerated into an unruly mob, seizing territory and goods from everyone they could, completely uncaring in their actions. For two years we were safe from them, but we were never in the same place for long. We were wanted people, the Mafia group my father led had been rather hereditary, I had, and actually __**still have**__ the right to reclaim them as my own, others would undoubtedly support me in my claim once I became old enough._

_We never had much money, or anything really, did you know I never tasted chocolate till L found me? _

_I was angry with everyone, I fought at school and assaulted a teacher, my mother stuck by me, but I don't know how she managed to cope with me. At times I used to shout at her until my throat was hoarse, I didn't understand why all this was happening, and no-one seemed able to tell me._

_Anyway, they eventually caught up with us. It seemed we were notoriously unlucky, our landlord had entirely the wrong connections; namely a drug ring that dealt a lot with the ones who wanted us. Our location had become their bargaining chip for some idiots next hit. _

_We were having dinner in the small kitchen of the flat when they came for us, they broke down the door and bundled us out into a waiting van; I don't remember much after that. I think they drugged us." _

Here Mello paused, his hands twitching slightly and his brow furrowing as he tried to stop his tears from returning.

Suddenly L reached out and pulled Mello towards him gently, so the small boy could rest against his side. Mello seemed to relax at this, settling into the warmth of the detective.

"Do you want me to continue for you?" L asked.

"No," Mello replied, "I have to finish this myself."

_When I came round we were in a large warehouse, I could just make out my mother ahead of me, surrounded by men. I think it was her screams that brought me round. I called out to her, I was worried for her, I couldn't understand what was happening to us. That of course was a mistake; it drew some of their attention onto me._

_The scars on my back were caused by them; they liked to play with knives. _

_They only stopped when I couldn't scream anymore. I think they thought I was dead. They were wrong._

_They were also stupid._

_I remember the first time I laid eyes on the gun not two metres away from where I was. I didn't realise anyone's fear could increase so quickly as mine did then. That was the moment I comprehended that if nothing happened soon both my mother and myself were going to die. _

_I didn't know what to do, I just stared at it contemplating my own death until my mum screamed again. Then I realised what I should do, I couldn't bare to hear her scream._

_No-one was watching me, heck they thought I had died, and the pain from my back and shoulders made me feel like I was about to die. I don't know how I managed to crawl to the gun, or how I managed to stand, but I did. _

_I shot the first one in the head for the way he was leering down at my mother, after that it was easy. They were disorientated, they had removed their weapons and they didn't expect to be shot at by a supposedly dead five year old. By the time the last one reached his gun it was too late, turns out he was the gang leader. I shot him in the knee as he turned to shoot me, I finally made one of them scream. I remember shooting him once more in the arm as I approached him to finish him, but after that… nothing._

_I think I finally passed out from loss of blood._

_I woke up the next day in hospital. I found out after a lot of screaming at the nurses that my mother was in a coma and unlikely to recover any time soon. They refused to tell me anything else, no matter how much I asked for information._

_Three days later, L came to see me. Apparently the police had begged him to track down the gang because of all the terror they had been causing across the country. He had been right on their trail when he had heard of the deal made about my mother and myself. He had sent the police to protect us, but they were minutes too late apparently._

_He told me he knew what I had done and my motivations for doing so, but killing them indiscriminately was still wrong. Then things went on from there and I eventually ended up here._

Mello came to a halt as he finished his monologue, his face expressionless.

"Why exactly did you think I would hate you for that?" Matt asked.

"I killed people!"

"You were defending yourself! They had hurt you and were torturing your mother in front of you. What else could you have done?" Matt replied.

"What Matt says is quite true," L agreed, "I was only trying to explain that there were other options besides killing them; and bringing them to justice would have been one of them. I wouldn't have brought you here if I thought you had committed a crime Mello."

Mello looked between them stunned; apparently he had entirely misinterpreted whatever L had told him when they first met. It was also dawning on him just what aspect of his past L had been referring to earlier.

"You were referring to my behaviour in school then weren't you," Mello murmured, looking sheepish.

"Yes," L said, shaking his head slightly at Mello's naivety, "I hardly think you are going to pull a gun on the people here."

"Then why did you let me say all that stuff!" Mello said loudly, glaring up at a L.

L sighed and patted him on the head.

"Do you feel better for finally being able to talk about it?" L said smiling at him kindly.

Mello nodded, surprisingly he found that he did.

"You both needed to be on a more level playing field anyway," L chided, "you did know his back story, and you didn't even wait to be told."

Mello suddenly looked panicked again.

"Did I say I minded?" Matt asked, hugging Mello from behind, "now can I have the real Mello back please, your being to self-conscious and wimpy."

"Who are you calling a wimp?" Mello cried, turning suddenly to dive on Matt, taking his revenge by ferociously tickling the younger boy.

"Erm Mello," the younger boy replied, looking entirely unmoved, "I'm not ticklish."

The sound of L's laughter once filled the room once again.

…

It was close to midnight when Wammy entered the room and was about to speak when L raised a finger to his lips. Wammy looked at him quizzically then he saw the two young boys who were asleep on L's bed.

L rose and quietly followed Wammy from the room.

"I had actually come to inform you of Matt and Mello's sudden disappearance from the building, but I see now that Roger has become worried unnecessarily," Wammy explained.

"Roger often becomes worried unnecessarily," L replied, "he also acts without my consent. As you now I meant to surprise them with my presence tomorrow, but Roger decided I would wish to me with the 'top ranked' student; as if I would pick my successor merely on the ranking system."

"He means well," Wammy replied.

"He means a lot of things, unfortunately he doesn't know about children," L said harshly, then he saw Wammy's expression, "I'm sorry, the case is just proving difficult at present and _he_ sent me another message."

"Is he still as he was?" Wammy asked.

"If by that do you mean 'does he still blame me for A' then yes," L sighed, leaning against the wall.

"You know you were unable to stop him, you did try," Wammy replied.

"He doesn't see it that way… and neither do I," L replied quietly.

"L, you _couldn't_ have done more than you did," Wammy sighed.

"I need to get back to this case, Eraldo won't retire by himself," L replied, "Matt and Mello can stay here tonight, there is no need to move them, in fact that may be unwise considering their personalities."

L smiled slightly up at Wammy.

The old man smiled back slightly, he was glad L was recovering from the incident with A. Only Wammy knew how much of a blow that had been to L.

L slipped back into the room, closing the door carefully behind him, to his relief neither boy had moved from their positions on the bed. He tiptoed over to where his computer screen was glowing lighting up the small room. He went back to his search for Eraldo Coil, he was strangely glad to have company in the room as he worked.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

A/N; Please let me apologise for the horrible delay in my updating this. It just wouldn't write correctly no matter how I tried, so in annoyance I had to leave it for a while, but now I am back. I can't promise the updates will be as quick as my other stories though. I apologise in advance for that, I know it's not like me.

Please read and review. They really did guilt me into updating.

* * *

Chapter five

L sat patiently typing away on the computer in front of him, skimming through the data on his next case while continuing his search for Eraldo Coil. He had been at Wammy's House for a week and it seemed he would have to leave soon.

"What you doing L?" Matt asked, startling the Detective in his sudden appearance next to him.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" L murmured, looking down at the small boy, the small boy who shouldn't have been here.

"Probably," Mello said suddenly, appearing on the other side of the chair. This brought the number of small boys who shouldn't have been there up to two. L hoped they hadn't brought others.

This was the second time that Matt and Mello had invaded L's room. This time it seemed they had decided to dispense with knocking, and the door itself.

"How did you get in?" L asked, amused over their antics.

"Hid in the wardrobe and waited for you to come back," Mello explained, grinning.

"I have been in here for over an hour," L commented.

"We fell asleep," Matt whispered looking embarrassed; then smiled when L patted his head slightly.

"So what are you doing?" Mello asked.

"I am looking for another Detective," L explained, "he has set me a challenge to find him and I will not disappoint him."

"Can we help?" Mello asked.

"I would be doing him a disservice if I needed help. He set this as a challenge to me, and me alone, I feel if I needed help this challenge would be worthless," L replied, smiling kindly at Mello.

"Oh," Mello said, looking slightly crestfallen.

"One day Mello, I promise," L said, completely serious, "you as well Matt. You both already show you have the ability."

…

They spent every night of the second week L was back at Wammy's in his room, watching him work. Both taking their assignments to finish with L. They didn't care that sometimes they were completely ignored for hours on end, because at least once in the evening L would come over and just to talk with them, even if for just five minutes Mello and Matt were happy. They always had more than five minutes.

Neither heard L leave on the final day, but when they woke up in his bed, a bed he never seemed to use himself; there was a small present for each of them waiting on the table and a note telling them he had gone, but that he would be back. He would come back sooner if they truly needed him.

…

For Matt and Mello the worst lesson they had to endure, by far, was history. Not because they couldn't do it, not because they had challengers for their places in the league table there, they didn't. They hated it because of the teacher.

Everything had been going well in history until they moved on to recent history, the past one hundred years. Apparently their unique view on there having been three World Wars not two; was unappreciated. No matter how many reasons they gave the teacher would not agree with them. A world war how to include many countries actually fighting; Matt and Mello argued that many countries had indeed been fighting during the Cold War; many developing nations had fought. The third World war was the large scale battle between Communism and Capitalism. A war didn't necessarily have to have the most obvious battlefields.

Every lesson turned into a full scale heated debate between teacher and duo. The rest of the class looking on in bemusement, no-one else wanted to pick a side. Each passing lesson Mello was becoming more and more tempted to use the L card and ask L what he thought. Mello was sure L would agree with them, but with each passing week the prospect became unlikely.

Of course to stay within the rankings they had to repeat the history they had been taught in the tests they were given, and that also greatly annoyed them both. Roger of course refused to even listen to their pleas and had actually threatened them to behave. In the end they gave in and stopped trying to give their own take on the situation.

…

Then a few days after their final tests in history a letter arrived for the both of them. It was short and wasn't signed but they knew who must have sent it. Both didn't know what to think of the message;

_Why didn't you stick to your views in the test?_

Was L chiding them? They didn't know, from what they knew of L they wondered if L was just curious as to why his two hot headed friends would actually give in for the sake of rankings. Most of all the worried that L was disappointed with them; so much so, that they snuck another set of exam papers from the storage in the basement and filled it in with the answers they would have preferred to have given.

Then in a fit of peak they gained access to L's room and left them on his bed.

…

L sighed as he typed up the final notes to be sent to the police about the latest case he had solved to track down Eraldo Coil. It had turned into an outright puzzle. He realised that each case that Eraldo joined him on and fought him for, formed a pattern if plotted on a map. He only had two-thirds of them. However, that was enough to pinpoint the central location.

He had found Coil.

He refused to act immediately, this was why he was finishing off the notes that the police would need to convict the sadistic murderer he had been tracking.

L sat back and leisurely ate his way through a slice of cake while he debated his next move. Now he knew where Eraldo Coil was hiding he wasn't sure whether he truly wanted to meet him in person. That had been part of the deal, of that he was certain; Eraldo had sent him a signed picture when he gained half of the puzzle. There was no reason to lie… unless it was someone from a criminal gang employing Coil to find L and remove him.

No, that didn't fit.

Eraldo took on cases and other aspects L considered more the realm of a private eye than a detective. Not that he didn't do those things himself, but not under his own name. They paid well and Wammy's house needed funding, and often some of the missing people cases he received were actually quite enjoyable, due to their nature often the people he searched for were still alive; but he didn't want to have these cases associated with him.

Truth be told L was just shocked by the location. Did the British just have a propensity for producing detectives he wondered? There always seemed to be a high profile British Detective somewhere in history, all the way back to the 18th century. He supposed they only stopped then because before that time there hadn't been a need or a compulsion to have one.

He came to a decision. It would be pointless to come this far and leave the puzzle as it came to its conclusion. He leant forward and pressed a button before him.

"Wammy," L said quietly, "It is time to return home."

L was sure he could almost hear Wammy smile as he said this.

"Oh, and don't tell Roger this time," L added.

…

It was dark when L's car pulled up to the entrance of Wammy's house, and the house itself mirrored this. Not a single window was illuminated with light. This was all to L's liking as he walked along the gloomy corridors; he didn't want to have to endure Roger's fawning over him, or his chiding of his behaviour. Roger was such an annoying man L decided. If he wasn't Wammy's long time friend he would have already had the man sacked, as it was Wammy was still the main controller of Wammy's house. The changes to the system and L's direct involvement with the whole issue of 'his successors' had only come about when L had been left out of the loop with the original recruits.

L knew he was still paying the price for that. Not only had he been forced to witness A's death, but B had misconstrued the entire situation and blamed him for everything. Nothing L could do would make B believe him. Frankly L wasn't sure he wanted to continue trying, B was beginning to scare him with some of his activities and the last time they had met in person L might as well have looked in a mirror.

He was brought out of his fugue by the sight that met his eyes as he turned the last corner to his room. Matt and Mello were trying to gain entry to his room. He raised an eyebrow and took the lollipop out of his mouth as he watched them, a smile gracing his features.

"Mello we shouldn't be doing this," Matt murmured, even as he kept on helping Mello pick the lock.

"Do you want those stupid tests back or not?" Mello hissed.

"Well yes," Matt replied in a hushed tone, "but I also don't want to be thrown out of Wammy's."

"Do you really think he would let us get thrown out?" Mello said, glaring at the lock.

"I would rather not test that theory," Matt replied, shocking L until he added, "I feel like we are betraying his trust doing this."

"We had to go through this once to put them in there."

"That was different somehow."

"Tch, don't become a coward on me now," Mello sighed.

"I am _not_ a coward. Now, why are you having so much difficulty with the door?"

"You keep distracting me."

L padded closer and leant over the two small boys the key held between forefinger and thumb in their vision. He smiled as they twisted round to look up at him sheepishly.

"Hello Matt, Hello Mello," L said softly, still smiling. He would decide to only get angry if the situation truly called for it.

"Hi," the two caught boys said softly, slowly standing up and moving away from the door slightly.

L opened the door and ushered the two boys in the door closing behind them all with a decisive click.

"Now just why were you trying to break in to my room?"

Matt pointed wordlessly at the bed. Both he and Mello looked terribly depressed.

L sighed and leant over the bed examining what he saw there then he smiled, it appeared the message he had sent had affected them in a rather unexpected way. He had only wanted them to be themselves not to do the exam again. He realised then they were unmarked.

To Matt and Mello's horror L picked up the history exam papers and holding them in his unusual manner found a pen and began to mark them, not looking up from his task even when Wammy brought in his luggage and cake. Neither of them dared to try and make him stop, they had left them for him and knew he would just give them one of his looks and just continue on anyway. Every time L paused to write a sentence or two they found they flinched.

Finally their torment was over and they were handed back their papers. To their surprise they had both been given one hundred percent for their original views. With fast movements they read through L's comments, and smiled as they realised he had left comments saying how he agreed and other aspects they could perhaps explore.

"I hope the worry over what I was writing was enough punishment to stop you doing something so stupid as this again," L said smiling.

Matt and Mello nodded looking down at the floor.

"I'm not mad at you," L sighed, "just surprised. I sent you that note because I wondered why you had spent so long defending yourselves only to give it all for the sake of ratings. It struck me as unlike you both, it wasn't as if that one grade would affect your standings."

"We were threatened with all our grades being shifted," Mello sighed.

"That was uncalled for," L said, "I understand your actions now, they didn't inform of all the details it seems."

"You're on our side?" Matt whispered.

"Of course," L said, totally surprised as the two young boys dived at him. He held them both close and rolled his eyes at the antics of his family. For they were his family, he considered them to be his brothers, in a sense at least. L too was hiding a troubled past, not that he was going to share that with them yet, they needed him to be strong for them.

When L tried to shift them from his bed he failed miserably. They apparently didn't believe he slept and therefore wanted to see confirmation. In the end, when Wammy came to wake him for his intended time to meet Eraldo Coil, he found L with Matt and Mello on either side of him using him as a pillow. It was difficult for him not to laugh as L tried to extricate himself from the two deep sleepers.

…

L walked towards the old man sat on the bench, if his information was correct this was Coil. It was difficult to believe that someone who sat feeding the pigeons breadcrumbs was a great Detective, but L knew appearances could be deceiving.

"Hello L," Eraldo said softly as L perched on the bench next to him.

"Coil," L said calmly, there was no point hiding who he was.

"I am surprised," Eraldo sighed, "not only did I expect you to be older; I thought it would take you longer to find me."

L said nothing, merely smiled slightly. Eraldo gave a small sigh.

"Don't be offended," Eraldo said quietly, "it's just at my age everyone seems too young."

"Perhaps to me everyone seems too old," L commented.

Eraldo laughed, and to L's distinct surprise clapped him on the back.

"I think you are going to annoy a lot of very powerful bad men in the future," Eraldo said happily, "and I think you will win."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," L said smiling.

"Yes," Eraldo murmured, his gaze suddenly looking at L critically, "I think I can safely give you all my code names if you want them."

"I was right then," L commented.

"Would you have come here if you had thought there would be any other outcome?" Eraldo replied, turning back to the pigeons and tossing them more feed.

* * *


End file.
